A Matter of Logic
by Circius
Summary: Soren hates being illogical and dishonest. Too bad Ike doesn't seem to realize how much his idiocy can affect everyone's favorite sage sometimes...especially when he jumps in front of that sword. Slight Soren/Ike/Soren.


**Sooo....I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now...I just kinda made it up as I went along. However, I wanted to write something where we see Soren...panic. ^^**

**Fire Emblem is probably one of my most favorite game series EVER. But I'm always so intimidated about writing a fic for them...usually I stick to my Naruto, and to thrid person...but here goes....**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fire Emblem or any other related franchise, I do not make any money (except that of the soul with reviews ^^) by writing this, only my own guilty pleasures. Even though I would really like to meet the people that DO own FE, and have a nice long chat over coffeeeee...XDD

**Warnings:** Rated '**T**' because there's some blood, and a panicked Soren. Which is def. excuse enough. XDD

Oh, and I don't think there are any spoilers...YAY!

**So now, without any further hulaballoooo: The Circius would like to present:**

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**A Matter of Logic:**

_A Fire Emblem Ficidee By: Circius_

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You had a heart. Not many people would believe it, but you did. You had a heart that was very, very loving and generous-or so you liked to think to yourself. You simply considered it to be hidden under many…protective layers. Many people said it was made of stone, or ice--that you had no feelings for anything at all--but you didn't really care. You considered yourself logical, blunt, and honest. These all seemed to be worthy traits--to you at least--because you did not feel that it was right to disillusion people with lies, no matter how small, or what kind of hope might be instilled because of it.

You were the kind of person who never saw the cup half full or half empty, but something that was simply holding water. You were a person of facts.

Ike…Ike was not.

Ike believed in too much, you thought, at least, whenever he had a goal. He always thought he could stop and save to the world. He thought that if he believed in something enough, if he fought for something long enough, it would be achieved. This was something you had fought hard to quell, and to try and explain, logically, that some things were simply impossible--

Ike listened to you. Most of the time…however, there were those moments, where, throwing himself in complete and total ridiculously stupid danger-and then succeeding to defeat said danger and go back to the normalcy he tried to have--

It drove you absolutely nuts.

Like now for instance.

"Stupid, ridiculous move."

You mutter, hunting through their dwindling supplies for the mend staff you know is in there, because you made it your job to take the inventory every day…unless some idiot had taken it since this morning…

Ike gives a sheepish grin, waiting patiently, propped up against the storeroom wall, trying to keep his still bleeding chest covered with the bandage that was supposed to be stopping said bleeding--

But the gash was deep, very deep. It was a miracle it had only broken a few ribs, and not punctured a lung. You…you were thankful for this, though right now you were about to blast Ike and his ribs into oblivion for his complete and obstinate idiocy.

"You're an idiot, jumping in the way like that."

You continue, rummaging through a few more crates.

"You could've been killed. And if you had been killed, the entire company, this entire effort, it would fall apart into pieces. I wouldn't even begin to know what to do with Mist, and everyone else would be completely hopeless-we would loose just about all of our allied ties, since they are all through you, this mission would be a complete and total failure, and many more innocent people would die simply because of your stupidity."

Ike opened his mouth as you turn around, finally grasping that last mend staff in your hand victoriously, turning back to stalk towards your commander and continuing, cutting off any form of ludicrous excuse Ike dare to try and give you. You were about to smite the man where he stood…or leaned would probably be the best term now-though he was shifting as you came closer, to sit on the ground in order to give you better access. He was so trusting, so kind--

"Soren I--"

The thoughts blow from your mind as you focus on being angry again. Stupid, moronic--

"You didn't think. No. No you didn't, Ike. And now I have to heal you, and then I have to make sure you sleep, because knowing you, you'll be up for the rest of the night worrying over everyone else who sustained injuries, and trying to help--which you might've been able to do if you were _well_, but since you're not, I have no choice--"

You kneel down next to the man that held you undying loyalty and dedication, the man you would've very easily died for, which would've been perfectly logical, since you had miscalculated the range of that damn swordsman's strike, you had been the one deserving of the ghastly wound you was now having to attend to, because Ike, Commander of illogical idiots--

"Soren."

"Hmm?"

Your response is a little more incoherent then your previous articulate lectures, seeing as now you are concentrating on getting the staff to focus its energies on the wound before you.

"I don't think I've ever heard you complain so much over a scratch like this. You know I've had worse."

You don't reply, instead pretending to be working to intently with the staff, ignoring Ike and his ridiculous ideas. You watch the healing glow work its way around the wound, sizzling a little as it remade muscles and sinew, healing bones and sewing everything back together. You hear Ike give a small hiss of breath--an expected side effect…the numbing effects of the staff were working…but it was a bigger wound then most. It couldn't stop all the nerves from sending little sparks of pain back to the brain.

But your blue-haired companion still continues speaking as you lean back after the light fades away, inspecting your work.

"You're just mad because I pushed you out of the way and took the blow meant for you."

Your well-worn, dark colored robes rustled as your stand, knowing that you're visibly prickling at his words as you reply.

"And that in itself wasn't necessary of logical. It was my fault, I should've taken it, and not have had to stand by idly, defenseless as he almost sliced you in half."

Ike stood slowly, testing his still sensitive chest area.

"Soren, if it had been you, he would've killed you for sure. And I didn't see you so defenseless when you blew him into Goddess knows where a second after he got me."

You stiffen with sensitivity you have tried repeatedly to kill, but you sometimes just can't, especially when it concerns the certain infuriating man standing in front of you--

"It was simply a reaction. I should've acted faster, before he had gotten that close--"

Ike sighed, as if he was exasperated.

"Not even your mouth could've move fast enough to say all those words before he would've gotten there. Swordsmasters are supposed to be fast--Soren?"

Damnit. You couldn't even hide his trembling from the one man you could usually count on to be oblivious.

"Soren what's--"

"It's nothing."

You reply, and maybe it was nothing, that unexplainable fear that was twisting around in your chest just remembering, the flash of steel, the flinch back-but suddenly being pushed away from the right, tumbling to the ground as your face gets splattered with blood--so much of blood, crimson brighter then your eyes, staining your skin as you try to get up--but no, it's already too late, it's not yours, but his, his grunt of pain silent as he stumbles backwards, bringing up his sword in defense, but he was going to be too slow, too slow, you could feel it--

You had never used so much energy in a spell before then at that moment, and you thanked the Goddess you had, because you had to watch as he faltered back again, tripping down to his knees as you ran to him, calling his name--

There were shouts of victory then--he's dead, he's dead! Boyd got him, Rolf shot him first, but the Commander was dead, they had won!

And you watched as he gave a faint smile, his weight falling against you, but you were too weak to hold him up, you crumpled to the ground underneath him, because you weren't strong enough, weren't strong enough--and your heal staff was broken, and Ike wasn't looking at you, his eyes had fluttered close, and the bright color of his indigo hair was too distinct, falling limply against his paling skin, the crimson red blood was too red, too stark of a contrast--

He wasn't conscious--he didn't have to watch his company frantically run around, searching for a healer, or anyone holding a staff as the stronger ones lifted him off you, though you didn't move far from him. Like a burr you clung to his side, trying to staunch the bleeding with your own robes, trying not to see the size and immensity of the gash and the amount of blood pouring out--

He didn't hear you conscious screaming at you--your fault, your fault. He pushed you out of the way, took your blow-if he dies it's because of you, you, and you cared about him most--

You always kill the people you care about, don't you? Don't you?

You don't have the answers for the questions attacking your numbing mind as the heal staff worked just enough to keep him alive, but not enough, you still heard the harsh words, your own--

He couldn't die, couldn't die, your fault, your fault.

Dead, dead…it spun around in circles in your conscious, sitting at his bedside while you searched through your things, for an extra staff an extra vulnerary--where there was none, and as he woke up, the sigh of relief that broke over your whole body, because he was going to be alright, your most precious person, alive, alive.

But as you tried to ignore him and qualm your shaking, the trial already over, because Ike was fine--he was fine. You had succeeded in your hunt and found the staff, you had healed him and he was fine now, standing in front of you, alive and well--but never the less he grabs your shoulder and pulls you back to him as you try to flee, and he asks you--

"Soren, what's wrong?"

You take a deep shuddering breath, feeling your voice waver-what an embarrassment-as you speak.

"I told you…that you mean more then anything to me, Ike--and though it was completely illogical, all that time, when I saw--I thought--"

You stop yourself, and try to get a control of the situation.

"I thought ridiculous, illogical thoughts that were stupid to begin with, and it was just my emotions speaking. Trivial really. But it is my concern to be worr--"

He ignores the rest of what your saying to pull you close to him again, and wrap his arms around you and comfort you in a way that only he could. Suddenly you feel safe, warm, protected…cared about.

"Sometimes there's a need to be illogical Soren…you can't keep everything bottled up inside all the time, its not healthy…I'm…sorry…that I worried you."

He says, and you feel the low rumble of his voice beneath his marred skin as you remain still, pressed against his warm, newly healed chest, suddenly feeling much better then you had in weeks--

But you know he will never understand the depth of your feelings for him, how deep they ran in your veins--

But he knew enough to hold you every time you cried, like now, and every time you hurt--

He would always keep you safe. And you would never leave him--

As completely illogical as that was--

You both knew that only death that would force you to part.

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_Fin._

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…**Review? XD I really love all criticism! Please tell me where to improve! Thanks!**


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